As for Diana, she had the faculty of putting aside the points that jarred in her friends’ characters. She was aware that they were not perhaps so unselfish as they took credit for being, and she could not but laugh softly under her breath at Mrs. Norton’s solemn conviction that she “could be of use” to Diana. But what then?--what did it matter after all? It would be pleasant enough to go to Switzerland, and travelling alone was not very pleasant. So far the Nortons were right. Diana feared (a little) the innuendoes of Mrs. Hunstanton when she heard of the project; but otherwise it amused her (she did not put it on any higher ground) to see their pleasure, to indulge them with every luxury of a journey made _en prince_. To have everything you can desire, without ever having to think of the expense, how pleasant it was! How she would have liked it when she was poor! She did not say to herself that she had been as independent as she was poor, and would not have lightly taken such a pleasure at any one’s hand. Why should she have remembered this? Sophy was not like her: and after all, to make these two little women perfect, to reform their characters, and mould them after her own model, was at once a hopeless proceeding and one altogether out of her way. CHAPTER XI. THE PROPOSAL. The rooms on the third floor of the Palazzo de Sogni were not like those in Diana’s beautiful _appartamento_. The drawing-room, which was so spacious and lofty in the _piano nobile_, was low, and divided into two; one half of it was Mrs. Norton’s bedroom. In moments of excitement, and in the early part of the day, the door of communication was sometimes left open, though it was against all the English ideas of nicety and tidiness, in which these little ladies were so strong, to leave a bedroom visible. But what else could be done, when Sophy was seized with that anxiety about her toilet, and the delightful sense of preparation for a further holiday whirled them both out of their sober routine? Mrs. Norton had her excuse all ready if anybody should call--that is, if any lady should call--for the thought of a masculine foot crossing her threshold did not occur to her. “We have no maid,” was what she would say, “and of course there are a great many things which we must do ourselves. Fortunately, I am quite fond of needlework, and Sophy is so clever, and has such taste. You would never think that pretty dress was made at home? but I assure you it is all our own work. The only thing is that we keep the bedroom door open, in order to keep this one as tidy as possible.” Every visitor (being a lady) sympathised and understood: and gentlemen, except the clergyman, never came. A clergyman, by virtue of his profession, has more understanding on these points--has he not?--than ordinary men; he is apt to understand how poor ladies have to employ themselves when they have no maid; in short, he has the feminine